


Vegetrouble

by rabidbinbadger



Series: Ice Ice Baby [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Crack, F/M, M/M, Witches
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-10
Updated: 2016-03-10
Packaged: 2018-05-25 22:45:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,409
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6213196
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rabidbinbadger/pseuds/rabidbinbadger
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>in which someone gets shafted by witches. or as i managed to spell it with alarming consistency in my first draft, tichwes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Vegetrouble

**Author's Note:**

> You should know that I was tripping absolute balls on flu medicine when I wrote this.

“Remind me why we couldn’t call Cas again?” Dean asks, bouncing from foot to foot. He’s not nervous, he’s just pre-grossed out by the witches they’re about to gank and could really do with some sort of godly shield of divine whatever to stop the mess getting everywhere. Cas the holy umbrella.

“Because.” Sam draws out the word. “Like I’ve explained to you a thousand times, we just can’t. Cas is too important for these regular hunts.”

“Yeah, but.”

“But nothing. If you want to hang out with Cas nut up and ask him, this attempted foreplay by near death experience is fucking weird.”

“I do not, with the, and the, what, foreplay, I don’t” Dean splutters, eloquently, like he’s inviting Sam to a game of ‘rearrange this sentence’.

Sam wrestles with the provided information for a sec, can’t come up with anything coherent but he knows Dean well enough to make a guess: ‘No, I am not too much of a baby to call Cas to hang out outside of a hunt and therefore reduced to hoping he shows up so we can kill monsters together in some sort of weird and faintly horrifying courtship ritual that disturbs everyone in a hundred mile radius because seriously no-one should get that turned on by a bloody corpse the both of you are insane’.

“Shut the fuck up, Sam!” Dean squeals, and Sam takes a moment to be impressed by his brother’s expansive vocal range before he realises that he might have accidentally said all of that out loud. Oops.

“Just kidding.” Sam tries, doing those weird little jazzhands people sometimes do when their brains have shut down from sheer embarrassment and they’re not quite sure what else to do.

Dean doesn’t say anything, but his left eye appears to be kinda bulging so that’s not a great sign.

“So!” Sam says, really rather too loud for someone who’s supposed to be keeping quiet because they’re standing right outside the door ready to bust in on some witches who probably know they’re coming now and will have ages to make their escape. “On three?”

Dean nods, something that looks an awful lot like murder in his eyes. It’s a good job they’re on a hunt and he can channel that into the witches, it’s all Sam ‘gigantic foot in fortunately equally gigantic mouth’ Winchester is saying.

“One, two, three.”

Dean kicks down the door, bursts in with his gun raised. And then he lowers it.

There aren’t any witches in the room. Like, not a single one. Dean takes the time to carefully make sure, opening cupboards, (“could be contortionist witches, or they could have shrunk.” “Yeah, Dean. The witches shrunk. That’s what happened here. Not that they go away.”), checking under the bed. He carefully steers clear of the centre of the room. Because, well.

It’s fucking weird, is what it is, okay.

There’s a circle of chairs, about maybe fifteen or twenty. That’s not what’s weird. Dean has seen chairs before, he’s not freaked out by like small gatherings of sitting down people.

It’s just that, at 12 o’clock, 8 o’clock and 4 o’clock, there are these um. There are these....

There are three giant vegetable people. Like, Dean is never ever going to repeat this story to anyone, but if he did, he wouldn’t know how to describe these things. ‘Cause they’re like perfect effigies of him and Sam and Cas – who isn’t even on this hunt so that makes it real fucking weird – well, real fucking weird-er.

And that description is only scraping he surface of the crazy barrel, because these veggie-people aren’t carved. They just, look like them? Like someone has painstakingly spent the time searching for vegetables that very accurately resemble team free will and assembled them up and Jesus Christ the AsparaCas is looking straight at him it wasn’t doing that a moment ago oh Jesus fucking Christ this is really fucking weird.

“You see this too, right?” Dean asks Sam.

Sam doesn’t reply. He’s frozen staring at his vegetable counterpart in literal, abject horror, unable to move. A lifetime of hunting creepy shit, weird shit, all the technicolour different kinds of bizzaro shit, does not prepare you for this kind of utterly disturbing on so many, so deep levels.

Sensing that Sam is in the middle of some kind of mental breakdown or cognitive readjustment or something, Dean decides to leave him be, draws his knife and approaches the circle. If the witches they were hunting left these things here, there’s no way they’re gonna he harmless. They’re probably about thirty seconds away from revealing like razor sharp teeth made from brambles or garden shears or pointy roots or –okay imagination, time to stop now.

Dean holds the knife out threateningly as he approaches. The Samato is closet so he figures he’ll go for that first, save Sam from having to y’know, stab a fucking vegetable effigy of himself to death. Hopefully Sam will be able to return the favour, if he ever fucking snaps out of that gormless coma thing he’s got rocking over there.

Dean thinks he sees movement out of the corner of his eye, flicks to AsparaCas. Call him a paranoid sonofafuckingbitch, but he swears down it moved. He looks away, looks back quickly. Nothing. He tries a couple more times, like the worlds least interesting game of hot chocolate for all involved. Or maybe the most interesting. Because sure, nothing is happening, but who else has played hot chocolate with a GIANT FUCKING VEGETABLE DOPPLEGANGER OF THEMSELVES.

Dean needs a coffee. Or a Valium. Or a Valium coffee.

He shakes his head, turns back to the matters at hand -  the Samato. Dean draws close, lifts his knife ready to stab this disturbing fucking herbaceous nightmare right where it hurts, and stops.

He can feel like, breathing down the back of his neck. He turns, so slowly, the kind of slowly you get in films where they’re trying to keep you in suspense for just that one little moment longer. When he finally sees what it is, he wishes he’d been a little bit slower.

AsparaCas is right there, and that’s not the most disturbing thing. The most disturbing thing is that he thinks it has a hand on his ass.

And he likes it.

He feels himself flush bright <strikethrough> ~~tomato~~  fire-engine red and he knows he should pull away, but he can’t make himself. He just lets AsparaCas pull him closer, lift his shirt and stroke its smooth, healthy fingers along his chest. Dean shudders, overcome with unexpected, dirtywrong heat. This isn’t Cas, but apparently it’s fucking close enough. Not that the real Cas would have this effect because, yeah. Shut up. He’s not in love with Cas he just thinks he has a nice body okay and – umph

AsparaCas is rubbing insistently at the tent in Dean’s jeans, and suddenly he has no room for thoughts that aren’t fuck yes, harder, and please god stick something up my ass before I explode.

Dean ruts forward, chasing his pleasure, and for a moment it’s so good, and then he hears a familiar sounding grunt from the other side of the room. It sounds enough like himself to skeeve him out – he’s too used to shifters for that noise to be innocent. He pulls away, looks in the direction the noise came from, and wishes he hadn’t.

Deansprout is sitting in the chair, legs splayed, well, uh, veg and two veg in hand and getting some very thorough attention. And it’s hard to imagine how a vegetable could look satisfied, but fuck if the Deansprout in the corner isn’t managing it.

Dean hadn’t even noticed that they weren’t clothed before, but now it’s really fucking obvious. He turns back to AsparaCas , meaning to give him a sneaky checkout. He doesn’t quite succeed with the sneaky bit, too caught up to do much more than gawp in awe.

That— that is very big. That’s practically a fucking marrow and it has him salivating and clenching in equal measure because look, he’s a fan of a well-endowed guy – vegetable, whatever, but well. That’s gonna take some stretching.

 He gulps, takes a look around to see where Sam is. Because he realises he’s been seriously neglecting the ‘look after Sammy’ thing. And, oh god, okay. He’s got something new to add to his list of things he wishes he’d never fucking seen because ew watching his brother getting off with a gigantic vegetable double of himself is just Too Much please god no. Please. No.

Sam seems really into it, though. Like, worryingly into it. Like, this doesn’t look like a well the opportunity was there thing. This looks like a mhmmm I’ve always wanted to suck my own face to see what it felt like and OKAY less thinking about that because hello there’s hot vegetable based action currently trying to happen over Dean’s way.

Dean’s jeans are being inched down, slowly, ever so tenderly and carefully, and he knows that if he as any objections, he needs to raise them now before things get too steamy and he just rolls with it. This is hot, like, hot as fuck. It’s also fucking disturbing and weird and strange that he can’t ask Cas the angel out, but he’s fine with Cas the vegetable sticking his fucking monster marrow somewhere no marrow should ever go.

Dean takes a deep breath, lets go. He kisses up AsparaCas’s chest, goes to leave a hickey at his neck.

Comes away with a mouthful that tastes like cabbage. he bit, he fucking bit a chunk out of AsparaCas and it tasted like—

It’s too much for him. He blacks out.

 

*

 

Dean comes back to consciousness slowly, and reluctantly. This isn’t one of those _what was I doing before I passed out_ times. This is very much a _oh god I was about to get off with a giant vegetable marionette of my best friend, help_ kind of waking up.

He cracks open his left eye – as if only seeing it through one eye will magically make it half as bad.

and it works – and better actually, because there are no giant vegetables. He’s lying in a motel room bed, normal motel room, normal bed. He could almost cry.

He also appears to be biting the pillow which, ew, unhygienic. He spits that out quicksharp.

“Dean?”

That’s Sam’s voice. He sits up, wary.

“Oh thank god you’re up.”

“Uh, yeah.” Dean replies, looking at Sam. He doesn’t look he’s ready to disown him, so, um, there’s that.

“That spell knocked you clean out. I was worried man, had to carry you back here. Wasn’t sure what they’d done.”

“What who’d done?” Don’t say giant vegetables, don’t say giant vegetables.

“The witches?” Sam says, in that special tone of his that he reserves for the 99% of the day where he thinks Dean is being an idiot. “They got you with a spell soon as you came through the door. You went down like a concrete block in the ocean. Kept making noises though, so I figured you were dreaming, not dead.”

Oh god. Oh blistering thunderfuck. Oh holy shit. It was a dream. The vegetables, and the doppelgangers, and the nearly letting one stick it’s—

All a dream.

Oh thank god.

“Did you gank ‘em?”

“Yeah. Wasn’t easy on my own, but I managed it.”

“Excellent.” Dean rubs his hands together, gets to his feet a little unsteadily. “This calls for a celebration.”

“Dude, you’re only just up. You can wait for your beer until later.”

“No. I really fucking can’t, Sammy.” I need to get this fucking dream out of my mind – the sooner the goddamn better.

“Is everything okay?”

“Look, I’ve just woken up from a witches spell, and I am horny as fuck. Now are you gonna let me go out there and sort this out, or am I gonna have to have a really fucking long shower and use up all the hot water?”

Sam blows air out through his nose, like an angry cartoon bull.

“Yeah, fine. Knock yourself out.”

 

*

 

Dean knocks aback a few shots for courage, and then scans the bar. There are plenty of people his type in here, guys and gals. Guys is a little bit too, close, right now though. He wants a woman, doesn’t matter what she looks like, as long as she’s about as far from Cas – or other recent similar to Cas things – as he can manage.

Someone catches his eye, keep s catching it. She’s tall, thickset and confident looking. Really, that’s the main thing he likes in his partners. As long as they’re interested and look like they wouldn’t mind throwing him around some, he’s game.

She winks at him, nods in the direction of a door labelled _staff only._ He nods back, follows as she makers her way through it.

She pounces on him the moment he’s through, crashing him against the wall, taking control and biting down hard on his lip. She draws blood, and he whines a little, brings his hands up to cup her sides, rubbing them up and down the soft flesh. She fists one hand into his hair, yanks it a little bit to see the reaction she gets. He groans out loud, and she gags him for it, fingers stuffed into his mouth.

When she’s sure he’s going to behave himself she removes her hand from his mouth, kisses him fierce and demanding, reaches down to his belt. She unbuckles it, helps him shed his jeans and then his boxers, reaches out to grab him firmly in her hand.

She screams and jerks back, looking at her hand as if burned.

“What is it, baby?” Dean slurs.

She shakes her head in horror, turns and runs out of the door.

Dean looks down. Where his cock used to be, it is no longer. Instead, there’s a cabbage. And, as if to add insult to really fucking huge injury, his balls are gone too. Instead he’s got two huge motherfucking carrots. Which doesn’t even make sense. Like you’d think the pointy one would –

They’re vegetables.

His genitalia has been replaced by vegetables.

He’s not been fucked by _a_ vegetable, he’s fucked over by three.

Vegetables.

The realisation stops bouncing merrily around his skull, sinks in properly.

He screams.

This time, he doesn’t wake up.

**Author's Note:**

> COLDEST HITS TIME AGAIN. (http://spncoldesthits.tumblr.com/tagged/faq)


End file.
